


Red Haven

by Kdragon1209



Series: Keith Needs Hugs [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exclusion, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Isolation, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) Needs a Hug, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Loneliness, POV Keith (Voltron), Parental Red Lion (Voltron), Platonic Cuddling, Power of Words, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Protective Voltron Lions, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), words hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kdragon1209/pseuds/Kdragon1209
Summary: It’ll be fine. Just hang out for a few minutes so I can say I made the effort and then leave, Keith thought. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and went to enter.“Man, this is great. I could use a break from Keith and his smug ass,” Lance’s voice said.Keith stopped dead in his tracks, inches from the door to the lounge. His heart dropped to his feet and his eyes widened. The door hadn’t opened yet, thank god, and Keith stood there for a minute. The false bravery that he’d managed to scrape together to face them suddenly evaporated.Or, Shiro encourages Keith to go hang out with the others and it doesn't end well.
Series: Keith Needs Hugs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038546
Comments: 19
Kudos: 211





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another idea that wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. After getting used to having no one around, I would imagine Keith has a hard time adjusting, especially when Lance, Hunk, and Pidge already seem so close with each other. Which of course leaves Keith feeling left out. 
> 
> FYI, there's reference to child abuse in this fic as well. 
> 
> This is probably set somewhere in the middle of season 1-ish again, maybe early season 2.

“You know, I really think you should try and participate in the activities the others do,” Shiro said, laying a hand on Keith’s shoulder before he could leave. They had just finished their required team training for the day and everyone was exhausted. Allura had really put them through the wringer this time and the others had already disappeared to go do some relaxing. Truth be told, Keith was actually planning on training some more to work on his footwork.

“Uh, why?” Keith exclaimed.

“Because one, we’re a team, and I know you get tired of me saying that, but it’s the truth. And two, because some socializing could do you some good,” Shiro pointed out.

_And because you spent a year out in the middle of nowhere by yourself and you’ve reverted back to your old mannerisms._

Shiro didn’t say it, but Keith knew that’s exactly what he was thinking.

“Pass,” Keith said and pulled away, summoning his bayard. He went to face the training deck, ready to call for a sparring robot, but Shiro stepped in front of him.

“I’m serious Keith,” Shiro said, his voice sterner this time.

“What am I even supposed to do?” Keith demanded, irritated.

Shiro shrugged. “Just, you know…go hang out. I think they’re gonna try and do some crafts or something.”

Keith raised an eyebrow. “Like…artsy crafts?”

Shiro shrugged again. “Something like that.” Keith stared at Shiro for a moment before he looked away. Keith didn’t want to, but he knew Shiro was going to not-so-subtly suggest it as often as possible until Keith agreed.

Keith let out a huff. “Fine.” He turned and headed toward the door.

“Just try it, that’s all I ask. You never know!” Shiro called. Keith waved his hand in acknowledgement, but grumbled the whole time he was stowing his armor.

“This is stupid. They don’t even like me. What am I even supposed to do? Just sit there and ‘hang out’ apparently. Why do I even have to do this?” Keith wondered aloud. A small part of him was secretly hoping that maybe it would go well and maybe someone other than Shiro would actually like him. Keith trusted Shiro and knew the man cared, but it wasn’t like Shiro could devote his attention to Keith 24/7. He had other responsibilities and had to look out for the others, which sometimes left Keith to deal with things himself.

When he was finished putting his gear away and was back in his regular clothes, Keith headed toward the lounge where he knew the others would be gathered. But the closer Keith got, the more nervous he became. _Come on Keith, get a grip. They're just your teammates, it’ll be fine. Who knows, maybe Shiro will be right and I enjoy it a tiny bit. Besides, it’s not like I’m going into battle or anything._ On second thought, if Lance was there, he would most surely turn anything into a battle. The queasiness Keith was feeling before suddenly morphed into dread. This was a really really bad idea, no matter what Shiro said. It was either going to end with him losing his temper and storming out or him losing his temper and ending up in a fight with Lance.

Keith was drawn from his thoughts when he heard raucous laughter coming from the lounge. He could easily pick up on Lance’s voice, boisterously claiming how he was the craft master back in elementary school or something. Keith instantly clenched his jaw in irritation—something that was becoming a bit of a habit around Lance. He then took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.

_It’ll be fine. Just hang out for a few minutes so I can say I made the effort and then leave,_ Keith thought. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and went to enter.

“Man, this is great. I could use a break from Keith and his smug ass,” Lance’s voice said.

Keith stopped dead in his tracks, inches from the door to the lounge. His heart dropped to his feet and his eyes widened. The door hadn’t opened yet, thank god, and Keith stood there for a minute. The false bravery that he’d managed to scrape together to face them suddenly evaporated.

“Yeah, that dude takes things way too seriously! Like jeez, we know you’re a train-a-holic, but seriously?” Pidge agreed.

“Well, but that just makes him all the more better in battle,” Hunk pointed out. Keith felt the tiniest bit of warmth at that.

“But he’s _already_ good, like—why train even more? He’s probably training now!” Lance argued.

Keith crossed his arms and shrank back from the door, not sure how much more he wanted to hear. He already knew that the others didn’t like him, but hearing it out loud didn’t make him feel any better. _And if it hadn’t been for Shiro, I would still be training,_ Keith thought gloomily.

“Either that or he’s sucking up to Shiro,” Pidge muttered.

“Well, it’s obvious they’re close,” Hunk exclaimed, “but I doubt he’d want to make crafts with us. He doesn’t seem very crafty.”

“Yeah, good thing we didn’t ask, he’d probably just make origami knives or something,” Lance commented.

That was Keith’s breaking point and he turn tail and ran, his eyes stinging. He didn’t know where he was running to—he couldn’t go to Shiro, it would only make things worse—and he couldn’t go to the training deck. His room didn’t sound appealing either and he didn’t know what to do, so he just ran.

Turns out he did have a place in mind, because his feet took him to Red’s hanger. She immediately noticed his distress and crouched down for him to enter. Keith ran up her ramp and into her cockpit. As soon as he plopped down into the pilot chair he curled up into a little ball, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. 

_Idiot, this is why I never try. What was I expecting? They don’t even know me and they already hate me. I’m such a stupid idiot. God, why am I such an idiot? It was the same in school and the same at the Garrison and now it’s the same here. What’s the point anyways? How does Shiro expect me to even get along with them if they already don’t like me? I should’ve never humored him and just stuck to the extra training like I planned anyways and I should’ve—_

Red suddenly pressed into his mind and interrupted his thoughts, giving a low rumble of concern. Keith automatically went to push her away, but he paused. Her presence was…nice. She wrapped the comforting warmth around him again, doing her best to calm him down. Keith managed to uncurl a little bit, straightening in the chair. It was then that the first sob escaped and tears fell down his face, much to his own protest. Keith curled back into a ball and furiously wiped at the tears, trying to get them to stop to no avail. He knew that if he didn’t stop crying the fists would start flying and he’d be in even more trouble than he already was and there would be no food tonight and—

A fierce stab of pain ripped through Keith’s head, cutting off his thoughts momentarily. He yelped and winced and his hand flew to his forehead to put pressure where the pain was still radiating from. Red took advantage of the pause and suddenly surged around him, growling both in his head and in his ears. A hot fire ignited within Keith and he felt anger well up inside of him, barely containable, but for the first time it wasn’t his.

There was no easy way to put it, but Red was _furious,_ madder than Keith had ever been, even after he had received the news about the Kerberos mission. Suddenly Keith was the one doing the calming, sitting up in the pilot’s chair and trying to keep Red from acting on her not-so-kind intentions that she was broadcasting to Keith.

_No Red, no don’t do that. It’s not like that, I promise,_ Keith tried. It didn’t do much. If anything, it only made the fire flare brighter. He winced from the headache Red was giving him.

She sent an image of Keith standing outside the lounge door and growled again.

_Red pleeeassse don’t go tearing through the castle. It’s not their fault—okay yes, they upset me but it’s—I know I wasn’t happy but—Red you can’t kill the other paladins, you’d have three other Lions angry with you! How are we supposed to defeat Zarkon then?_ Red didn’t seem remotely concerned with that at all. Keith gripped the handles in front of him, as if he could physically stop her if she decided to move. _Red please—please don’t, I’ll feel even worse if you do._ That seemed to catch her attention and Keith used it, listing all the reasons why she _shouldn’t_ act on her intentions and how it would affect Keith if she did.

After a few tense minutes of telepathic arguing, Red’s raging fire died down to a low kindle, but Keith could still sense her eagerness. One word otherwise and she wouldn’t hesitate. Keith slumped down in the chair, suddenly feeling more exhausted than he ever did after training. His stabbing headache had subsided as well, but a dull throb still lingered.

**_Why?_**

Keith jumped, surprised to hear Red actually speaking to him. He tried to remember the last time that had happened, but couldn’t remember her ever using words before. Actually, she had always communicated her ideas in images and feelings.

_You can speak?_ Keith asked her.

**_Why?_** Came the response.

_Why what?_

Keith felt the familiar loneliness well up inside of him, along with Red’s questioning. Keith frowned, trying to understand what she was asking. His eyes widened when it suddenly dawned on him. _Oh…I just…I don’t know…It’s always been like that—me being alone and all._

_**Why?**_

Keith’s heart clenched in his chest and more tears well up in his eyes, threatening to spill over. _I don’t want to—I can’t talk about this right now._ Red seemed to sense that it was a sensitive subject and thankfully backed off, switching instead to comforting him. The warm coziness came back, drifting around him and wrapping him in a soothing blanket. Keith sat there for a moment, relaxing more easily into her warmth this time. He was half-tempted to just stay in Red for the rest of the day, but he knew that if he skipped dinner it would be suspicious. It had become an unspoken agreement that if they weren’t currently on a mission or in battle, everyone was required to attend the meal. Keith had a suspicion that everyone equated it to family meal time, but Keith didn’t really have a clue as to what that was and sometimes felt uncomfortable during them.

After what happened today, Keith wasn’t sure he could keep a lid on his emotions long enough to get through dinner with the others. He really really didn’t want to punch Lance, but for some reason the guy _always_ sat next to Keith, even if there were other chairs open—which would put him within arm’s reach. Shiro would be able to pick up that Keith was upset as well.

_It was your fault that that even happened!_ Keith thought, unable to stop himself. He instantly hated himself for thinking that and shook his head. _No, Shiro was just trying to be helpful. He knows I don’t know how to connect with people. He didn’t know they were going to say awful things any more than I did._

Keith sank even lower in his chair, his apprehension toward dinner turning into dread. Red rumbled in concern and sent him encouragement. Keith could feel her trying to instill some confidence in him, but he was still unsure. She then shifted her approach and sent him something else.

A promise.

While Keith went to dinner, Red would be here, waiting for him to return. Once he was done eating, he could go back to hiding in her.

_I’m not hiding,_ Keith thought.

Red made a noise somewhat like a snort, though it was strange to only hear it in his head. 

_Hiding implies that someone would actually come look for me,_ Keith pointed out glumly. _It’s not hiding if no one cares that I’m gone._

Red gave an indignant huff and an image of Shiro appeared in his mind again.

Keith winced guiltily, but he knew Red was right.

_Alright, I suppose you got a point. I just…_

Red sent another wave of encouragement, filling him with confidence he didn’t feel.

_I suppose I can make it through one meal with them, but I’m coming right back here as soon as it’s over._

**_I wait._**

Keith nodded and reluctantly rose from the chair. Red crouched down and opened her mouth, the ramp automatically unfolding down. Keith paused at the top and stared out at the hanger beyond. He then took a deep breath and exited. Red then rose up and returned to her sitting position.

**_I wait._**

Another round of reassurances flooded through Keith and he couldn’t help but crack the tiniest of smiles.

“Thanks Red.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter of this mini-fic I had thought of. I think it turned out pretty well.

When dinner time rolled around and Keith headed toward the dining hall, he tried to walk with a confidence he didn’t feel. He even did a few extra laps around the castle before he finally worked up enough nerve to enter. Thankfully, only Shiro and Coran were already there, and Keith paused, debating where he should sit. He wanted to sit right next to Shiro, but Shiro would only pick up on his mood even quicker. But if he sat across from Shiro, then that left chairs open for Lance to sit next to him. Keith decided to risk it and sat down across the table from Shiro.

Shiro looked up and grinned at him, to which Keith managed to return a small smile, but he quickly looked away. One glance up revealed Shiro had diverted some of his attention from his conversation with Coran to Keith. Before Shiro had a chance to question him, Lance and Pidge entered, followed by Princess Allura. Keith immediately tensed and avoided their gaze, but they were too busy chatting with each other to notice him. Keith suddenly wondered how bad it would be to just skip dinner and go back to Red.

To Keith’s surprise—and relief—Pidge was the one to sit next to him, with Lance on her other side, closer to the head of the table where Princess Allura customarily sat. Keith looked at them out of the corner of his eye, firmly keeping his hands in his lap so they couldn’t see him fidgeting with his fingerless gloves.

“Pidge, face it, you’re a maniac if you like your marshmallows burnt,” Lance said matter-of-factly. “Golden brown is the way to go.”

“But it saves loads of time! I could eat three s’mores in the time it takes you to make one,” Pidge pointed out. “And it tastes better.”

“Pretty easy when you just stick it right in the flames. Some of us more refined folks like the finesse of the perfectly toasted marshmallow. Anything good is worth the wait,” Lance argued, motioning dramatically with his hand.

“Oh yeah, well, _I_ know for a fact that Hunk likes them burnt—and he’s a seasoned chef.”

“The dude also sandwiches them between Pringle’s chips and puts raisins on them.”

“Fine,” Pidge turned and looked at Shiro. “Shiro, how do you eat your s’mores? Golden brown or burnt?”

Shiro shrugged. “I usually just ate them raw,” he answered.

“Ew!” Pidge exclaimed.

“You heathen!” Lance yelled.

“Alright fine, Keith? What do you like?” Pidge asked.

Keith jumped at the sound of his name and was suddenly hyperaware of everyone’s attention on him. “I don’t like s’mores,” he grumbled.

“You what?! How can you not like s’mores?” Lance cried. Keith shrank even further in his chair.

“What are…s’mores?” Allura asked. Keith didn’t like the princess a whole lot, but he could just about hug her for taking the attention away from him. Lance and Pidge immediately launched into an explanation of s’mores and how they were prepared.

_It’s not my fault—I’ve never even_ had _s’mores. No one ever trusted me around an open flame,_ Keith thought to himself, his mood worsening. Yet another thing that was apparently wrong with him. _Maybe I can get Red to use her fire power to make me some. Of course, that requires marshmallows though…_

Keith was relieved when Hunk finally entered, carrying platters of food and more hover plates trailing behind him.

“Food’s ready. You guys are gonna _love_ my lasagna—I think I finally got the flavor right,” Hunk announced. He laid out plates for everyone and the hover plates settled in the middle of the table, each carrying different side dishes to go with the meal.

“Ah yes! Some good ole Italian food. Finally!” Pidge cheered. “Though no offense Hunk, I bet it won’t be as good as mom’s.”

“None taken,” Hunk replied with a chuckle. As soon as everyone was seated, they dug into the food, Lance and Pidge instantly wolfing down their plates and reaching for seconds. Allura looked a little unsure about the new food, but she tried it anyway, always eager to sample Earth cuisines. Shiro ate his at a steady pace and Coran did the same. Hunk watched everyone with a laugh for a moment before starting on his own plate.

Keith, on the other hand, wasn’t too sure about the food and reluctantly tried an experimental bite. The taste was okay, but he shivered at the texture, the feeling foreign to him. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t have much of an appetite and was put off even more by the food, but he didn’t want to hurt Hunk’s feelings and forced each forkful down. There was also a chance he would get in trouble if he didn’t clean his plate, even though Keith knew he was being ridiculous and none of them would get mad if he didn’t, but still…he could never be too sure.

Time passed agonizingly slow during dinner. What normally only lasted 20-30 minutes maximum felt like _eons_ to Keith. It seemed with each passing minute, the more and more everything was becoming too much, shrinking Keith’s fuse further and further. He knew it was only a matter of time before he blew up. He needed to get out of here.

_Just keep your mouth shut and stop being a baby. You’ve had to endure worse, what’s your problem?_ Keith thought to himself, not too kindly. He knew he was being hard on himself, but in retrospect, this was mildly pleasant and he should just suck it up. _It’ll be over soon,_ Keith told himself. _Just hold out for a little more longer. It’ll be over soon. Then I can go back to Red._

“You know, back home, I was the s’more roasting champion,” Lance bragged. Keith involuntarily tensed again and bit down on his tongue before he could say anything, but he couldn’t stop the glare he shot at Lance. _Why are we still talking about this?_ Keith wondered despairingly. It was then that he noticed Shiro looking at him, eyebrows drawn up in concern. Keith dropped his head and focused on his plate, unwilling to meet Shiro’s gaze, but he knew that Shiro knew he was upset. While Keith felt that Shiro was the only one who understood him, it was a little freaky sometimes how he could read Keith like an open book.

Eons later, everyone had finished eating and began cleaning up. Keith had long finished his plate and never reached for seconds, so he had spent a good chunk of the time just playing with his silverware and the crumbs on his plate.

As soon as dinner was officially done and they were allowed to leave, Keith headed straight for the door, trying to keep it to a walking pace even though every ounce of his being wanted to run.

“Hey Keith, where are you going?” Pidge called.

Damn it.

“Probably back to the training deck,” Lance muttered.

Keith’s muscles tensed at the remark and his hands curl into fists without his permission. He glanced back at them over his shoulder. “Back to my room,” he fibbed.

“We were gonna try and play charades, wanna join?” Pidge asked.

“No,” Keith answered shortly.

“Oh come on, we were going to even try to teach Coran,” Hunk chimed in.

“I’m not sure what your ‘charades’ are, but if it’s anything like the times me and my old Pop-pop used to outwit each other in enigmas and conundrums, then I’ll shall already be an expert,” Coran exclaimed. He played with his mustache and puffed out his chest proudly like he did every time he talked about his grandfather.

_No, because you guys don’t like me and I have a headache and I’m exhausted and why are people so frustrating and I just want to go back to Red._

“If you didn’t want me around when you were making crafts, what makes me think you’d want me around now?” Keith snapped. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, his tone not particularly friendly. Keith saw their various expressions all switch to guilt or anger or concern—and in Shiro’s case—all three. Keith realized what he said and ran before he could say anything else hurtful or mean or inconsiderate.

This time he didn’t make it to Red before he started crying and ran through the castle, tears blurring his vision. He could already feel Red’s overprotective growling in his head. By the time he made it to her hanger, she was already crouched down with her mouth open, ramp extended. Keith ran up the ramp and collapsed in the pilot’s chair again, curling up into a little ball.

Red growled again and rose, her gaze focused upwards where the dining hall was. “No Red, it’s my fault,” Keith sobbed. _I said mean things to them and it’s not their fault that I don’t know how to interact with anyone. This is why it’s better if I just stay away from people, I can’t even go five minutes without saying something mean. God, why am I like this? It’s no wonder no one ever wanted me, all I ever do is mess things up or pick fights or get into trouble. Why do I—_

Keith surged upright and ran to the equivalent of a bathroom in the back of Red where he emptied his stomach. The nausea that had been welling up inside of him lessened, but he still felt sick to his stomach and his head positively _ached_ now. Keith groaned and sat there on the floor leaning against the wall in the cramped space. It was smaller than Keith’s liking and brought on a new feeling of uneasiness that he didn’t want to deal with, but it was okay because it was inside of Red and she was constantly sending him telepathic reassurances.

He thought about going back to sit in the pilot’s chair, but he was a little concerned that he might throw up again, so instead he remained on the floor next to the toilet and cried some more. He hated crying, but it seemed like once he started he could never get himself to stop.

_Man, if the others could see me now, I’d be the laughing stock. Keith the emo loner breaking down and crying because he can’t ever get his shit together. Oh look at that! The mullet-headed, hot-tempered samurai breaking down and crying! How pathetic!_ Keith’s mind mocked, supplying Lance’s voice for the mocking. Red pressed into his mind again, a bit more gently this time, but it still made Keith wince nonetheless. She tried her best to comfort him, sending him reassurances and trying to soothe him. This time when she wrapped her presence around him, it was like a giant warm blanket that he could curl up with and shamelessly bury his head in.

Keith instantly felt better and managed to get to his feet and return to the pilot’s chair. He was still sniffling a lot and some tears still ran down his cheeks, but at least he was over the hump with the crying. Keith decided he was going to stay in Red for the rest of the night and didn’t give two shits about what anyone else said otherwise. Red hummed in agreement with that.

That’s where Shiro found Keith two hours later. Keith awoke to Shiro’s voice gently calling his name. Somewhere along the line when Keith finished crying he must have fallen asleep, but he didn’t remember it. The headache was less, but it was still there and he was incredibly exhausted like he always was after he cried.

Keith peeled his eyes open and slowly lifted his head from his curled position. Shiro’s face came into focus and was kneeling next to him but far enough away that he wouldn’t cause Keith discomfort. Keith flinched and couldn’t help the gasp that escaped his lips.

_You let him in?! Why?!_ Keith frantically thought at Red.

Red didn’t reply.

_Re-_ ed. _Why did you let him in? What part of “I’m staying here for the rest of the night and don’t give two shits otherwise” did you not get?_

“Hey, you okay?” Shiro asked softly, snapping Keith from his thoughts. Keith almost forgot Shiro was there, looking at him with that concerned look that he made when he was worried about Keith—the eyebrows turned upward that crinkled his forehead and the slightest turn downward of the corners of his mouth that might be considered a frown if you didn’t know better—that look.

Keith swallowed thickly and didn’t know what to say. The longer that Shiro looked at him, the longer Keith stared back with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights, his heart beat slowly not-slowly getting faster and louder.

“You seemed…uncomfortable at dinner,” Shiro continued, choosing his words carefully. “Did something happen?”

_No,_ Keith’s mind replied instantly, but his mouth didn’t move. In fact—Keith didn’t move either—not a muscle save for his breathing. Keith sat there and waited for the lecture that he knew that was coming; the I’m-not-mad-at-you-but-I’m-disappointed-and-I’d-like-you-to-do-better-in-the-future lecture.

“Can I hug you?” Shiro asked.

Keith blinked. That was not what he was expecting. It took him a few seconds to process the request before he nodded. Shiro partially got up and pulled Keith out of the chair, moving purposely slow as to not startle Keith. They ended up sitting on the floor in front of the chair, with Shiro leaning up against it for support as he held Keith. Keith moved and wrapped his arms around Shiro’s torso and buried his head in Shiro’s chest. Shiro returned the hug and slowly rubbed up and down on Keith’s back. For a while, neither of them said anything as Shiro respectfully gave Keith time to adjust to the contact enough so he could hopefully be content with it.

After a while, Shiro broke the silence. “I’m guessing the crafts didn’t go very well?” Keith instinctively cringed, but then shook his head.

“Was it because of Lance?”

Keith nodded, but then paused. “…It was kinda all of them,” he said quietly, his voice rough from crying. “I just—…I don’t understand what’s wrong with me. They don’t even give me a chance.”

“Nothing’s wrong with you, you are fine just the way you are,” Shiro said, soft but firm. “Sure, you’ve got your quirks and issues, but we all do. No one is perfect. Their behavior is not a reflection of anything you’ve done. I know it must have taken a lot of courage to try and do that, and regardless of how it could have went or what happened, I’m proud of you for trying, okay?”

“But—” 

“No buts. It’s a hard adjustment period for you and they aren’t making it any easier.”

“Sorry.”

“Keith, it wasn’t your fault, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

Keith shifted in Shiro’s grip, guilt curling through his stomach again. “I wasn’t very nice though.”

“After dinner?” Shiro clarified. Keith nodded and Shiro took a deep breath. “True, but I know you were upset.” Keith didn’t reply, unsure what to say. They fell into a silence, something that commonly happened often when it was just the two of them talking. Over the years, Shiro had figured out it was best not to pressure Keith into talking and wait for Keith to sort through what he was thinking and decide for himself when he wanted to talk—if at all.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been spending time in Red outside of missions,” Shiro began. Keith froze up under Shiro’s grip, worrying about what he was going to say. “Is it nice in here?”

Keith nodded. “It’s away from everyone,” he whispered.

“Would you like me to leave then?”

Keith hesitated, he knew Shiro wouldn’t mind and would wait outside until Keith felt comfortable enough to come out. Keith shook his head. “No.”

“Alright. And Keith?” Keith slowly lifted his head up to glance up at Shiro. “I know you don’t think it, but they’ll come around. They just need some time to get to know you and you need some time to get to know them, we just need to be patient.”

“Okay,” Keith whispered. Truth be told, he was skeptical that that would ever happen, but if Shiro believed it would, then Keith would try to remain as hopeful as he could. "Thanks Shiro." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just out of curiosity, would this be considered a two-shot then?

**Author's Note:**

> I sympathize and relate to so much Keith it's unreal. It's weird, because I relate so much to Lance too, which is why they are my favorite characters. 
> 
> I myself have had personal experience with exclusion. IT IS NOT FUN WHATSOEVER. 
> 
> Some advice to everyone if you don't already follow it: be careful with your words, you never know who's listening, and they can hurt more than any physical wound.


End file.
